Chapter 6
Elariya
“Tethers in the Dark”
Ibarely remembered walking back to the house.
The trees thinned, the earth softened, and suddenly, the stone path leading to the back door emerged beneath my feet.
Quietly, I crept inside. I didn’t want anyone—especially Thayden—catching me with the journal and the seal.
I slipped through the corridor, keeping to the shadows.
Laughter and hearty chatter drifted faintly from the sitting room, Thayden’s voice among it.
Good. They were occupied.
I didn’t slow. I headed upstairs like I was running from something that might reach out and grab me if I hesitated.
When I reached my chambers, I slipped inside, closed the door, and leaned against it. Then I stared out the window at the silent forest.
The branches swayed in the wind, dark and watchful but calm. As if the forest itself was assuring me my secrets were safe.
I wondered where Arielle had gone. I’d never seen anyone vanish before my eyes. At least not in this reset.
Only the Gods knew what I must have seen in the magical realm.
I still couldn’t believe I’d been there.
And… Wolfe Nightblade.
His name pulsed in my thoughts like a heartbeat.
What had my life been like with him?
What had I been like with him?
It was so bizarre that I’d spent the last five days suspecting something was wrong with my life, only to discover I’d been right. The unease I’d carried hadn’t been imagined at all. It had been truth.
I gazed at the journal in my hands and stepped away from the door.
I was eager to see what lay inside, yet my nerves were so tangled I could barely breathe.
“Read, Elariya. Just read,” I whispered, squeezing the journal tighter.
I carried it to the bed and sat, the mattress dipping beneath my weight. Across from me, the fire popped softly in the hearth, as if urging me on.
I swallowed past the lump wedged in my throat and opened the journal, taking out the letters first.
I started with the one I’d written to myself. I opened it.
Tears pricked at the backs of my eyes as I recognized my handwriting.
It said:
Elariya,
A lot has happened over the last month. Your life changed in ways you never could have imagined. It all began the night you met Wolfe Nightblade.
You won’t remember him. You won’t remember anything from the past month. And your first instinct will be to doubt everything you’re about to read. I know, because I was you not long ago.
What started as anger — even fear — did not stay that way. What felt like captivity did not remain a cage. Somewhere along the way, you found something you never expected.
And so did he.
Keep an open mind. More importantly, keep an open heart. I know how easily you close yourself off when you’re afraid. Don’t. You don’t have to do that this time.
I won’t say too much here. The journal holds the truth, and it holds my heart.
Read it. Trust the girl who wrote it. She had every reason to run. She did not.
Wolfe Nightblade became the love of your life. The kind worth remembering.
Trust me,
You
I pressed the letter to my chest, my heart swelling. My hands trembled as I lowered it and read the words again. And again.
‘Wolfe Nightblade became the love of your life. The kind worth remembering.’ The words wouldn't leave me. It felt like the version of myself who’d written the letter knew exactly what to say to open my mind.
When I looked at the journal, I suddenly needed to know how the Fae prince had stolen my heart.
I flipped the journal open. On the first few pages, I’d jotted down a series of events in chronological date order. From that I could see, the dates made it undeniable—I had written this journal last month.
It was mine. My words. My voice.
Something that felt like me.
A few pages in, the entries shifted from dates and events to my own thoughts.
I went still as I reached the first full page.
Dear Future Me,
This is our first notebook in captivity, so I’ll start by warning you that it is all you’ll have to rely on. I will do my best to write down as much information as possible and hope that you don’t make the same mistakes I did.
By now, you will know you’re stuck in a memory loop. Cursed to have thirty days of memory before everything resets with the new moon, where you won’t remember anything or anyone you met during that time. The only thing you’ll recall is that fateful day when Father was taken.
It’s been like that for the last five years.
It is with a heavy heart that I write these notes, for I have learned the truth of Father’s actions and the reason for the curse.
This reset has been the hardest. I don’t know what will happen for the next. You may not have your notebooks, your family, your friends. You may not even trust yourself.
It all began one fateful night after I (you) met a Fae prince in the tavern at home.
He tricked me with a cruel, damning kiss then took me captive…
I stopped there, stunned by the words.
The truth of Father’s actions? What had he done? And Wolfe really had taken me captive. Neither sat well with me, but I was beginning to understand why my letter had urged me to keep an open mind and heart.
I flipped the page and stalled again when I read the first line.
He calls me Ziyka.
A bead of cold sweat formed at my temple.
Ziyka.
Gods above. If I’d thought I’d been dreaming or that none of this was real, that single word alone was proof.
The voice calling to me last night in my sleep…
Was that Wolfe?
It must have been.
Ziyka. Ziyka. Ziyka.
The name echoed through my mind, and I was back in that gray expanse—the vast nothingness that held me.
But something was there.
Him.
I looked down at my wrist, at the soul mark. Beneath it lay the shackle. Strange—I couldn’t see it, but now that I knew it was there, I swore I could feel it resting against my pulse.
Arielle said it was a tracker. And that the Seer had tethered my heart to Wolfe’s through it. Something like the Seer’s magic would have amplified whatever connection we shared.
The burn last night. That had been it. The shackle.
If I’d heard Wolfe calling to me, if my spirit had drifted to that gray expanse at the same moment the shackle burned… Then he wasn’t just lost. He’d been reaching. Reaching for me. Giving me a way to find him.
I leaned forward, the journal braced in my hands, and I continued reading.
I read. And read. And read.
Minutes blurred into hours.
The fire burned low. The candles guttered. The moon climbed high and pale beyond the windows. And I didn’t stop until I reached the end.
I learned about Father’s crimes—murdering Wolfe’s father, the previous king of Galaythia, and taking the ring of the kings.
I learned about the Phantom Moon, the circumstances of my captivity, and the quest to find the ring.
I learned about Arielle and the Bloodsworn, the dragons, Vyrenth Hollow, and Wolfe’s horrid uncle Dreynthor.
I learned about Wolfe’s sister, Zyrra—and how she tricked me. I learned about the Seer’s council, my time magic, and what I would need to become if I meant to find the ring. But most of all, I learned about my love for Wolfe.
I’d lost my virginity to him. And I’d loved him, really, truly loved him.
Loved him enough to want to stay in the magical realm. I’d fallen for the place too, but it was clear I’d wanted to be wherever Wolfe was.
Now Wolfe Nightblade was a stranger to me. And it was terrifying how easily my curse could turn love into something that could simply be switched off. All I had were words on a page. Reports. Stories. Information… without the feeling to match.
I couldn’t feel it—love. Not even a flicker.
The thought twisted my insides, sharp and guilty, as if I’d betrayed the girl who wrote these pages, betrayed the version of me who had lived it.
But that was the nature of the curse, wasn’t it? It didn’t just steal memories. It stole the way they had shaped me. Every new moon, it erased the good along with the bad.
Now I knew the truth. The whole truth.
But still—there were missing pieces.
I still didn’t know how I’d ended up back here with my family.
Had I fled on instinct? Portaled away from danger the moment the attack happened? Or had someone brought me back?
Like Thayden.
The thought landed like a stone in my gut.
Did he have something to do with it? And if he did… did he know where Wolfe was?
Thayden—no matter how strong he thought himself—was no match for the Fae. And not for a three-hundred-year-old warrior prince who commanded dragons.
But he didn’t have to match Wolfe in a fight to be dangerous.
He only had to know the right people. Pull the right strings. Find the right way to get me back.
Then there was my family.
They’d lied to me.
Every last one of them.
The thought settled heavily inside my chest.
Grandmother.
Mother.
Emabelle.
They’d lied.
I closed the journal slowly, my fingers numb, my pulse roaring in my ears.
When I looked up at the window, the sun had just risen—the first light of day chasing away the thick blanket of night.
For the first time since I’d woken up, the broken, hollow pieces of me were fitting together.
Even if they were going to destroy me.
Now that I’d read the journal, it was time to make a decision.
And I had.
I was going.
I was going to help in whatever way I could to find Wolfe.
I might not remember how I’d felt about him… but I couldn’t abandon him.
I owed it to the version of myself who wrote the journal to help in whatever way I could.
I’d heard him calling to me.
So, he had to be alive.
For now.
I exhaled and stood, stripped out of my dress, and pulled on a simple tunic and trousers. Then I grabbed my satchel and placed the journal inside, along with the seal.
The next thing I had to do was talk to my family.
It was still early. They’d be in bed. And Thayden was still here.
I had to wait for him to leave.
The one thing I had on my side was the early hour. He said he was leaving at first light. That meant he wouldn’t come up here and check on me.
At least, I hoped he wouldn’t. If he did, I’d slide into bed and pretend to be asleep.
I moved to the window and sat on the window seat, waiting.
The yard below lay quiet. Everything was still, waiting with me.
With nothing else to do, I decided to read the letter I’d written to my family.
The words were steadier than I felt now. I’d told them everything, especially about Father. I’d also asked for their forgiveness for my decision to live in Galaythia. I still planned to give them the letter, but I’d be leaving here with or without their blessing.
Time stretched, until a door slammed somewhere below. Voices drifted up on the wind. All male.
Then I heard him—Thayden.
My pulse kicked. I leaned closer to the glass, my breath shallow.
Thayden emerged first, dressed in his guard leathers. Two of his men followed, then another.
He said something that made them laugh, then mounted his horse in one smooth motion, not looking back at the house. Not looking up.
He rode forward, and he and his men disappeared around the corner.
I waited, listening to the creak of the gates and hooves striking stone.
I listened until the sound faded into the distance and the silence settled again.
Only when the last echo of them had died did I move, relief and resolve tangling inside my chest.
Gods. This was my chance.
Now I could breathe.
Now I could speak.
I tightened my grip on the satchel strap and headed for the door.
I stepped into the corridor, planning to go to Grandmother’s room first.
But then I heard her downstairs, talking with Mother and Emabelle.
Good. They were together.
I could confront them all.